Stolen Delights
by Firisu
Summary: AU. In which Rukia gets a job, gets the guy, and gets a very cold box of chocolates. IchiRuki, one-shot.


**A/N: Hmm, I'm really not too happy with this. It's short and crappy, but I felt obliged to write something for Valentine's Day, and this idea came to me when I was listening to my friend talk about how there's this guy who works with her at KFC, whom she sneaks drinks for from the fridge because he asks her to, though she only agrees to do it "because he's hot."**

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**Stolen ****Delights**

It was love at first sight.

Okay, love's too strong a word. Infatuation, perhaps? In any case, from the moment her supervisor introduced him to her as her new co-worker, he was all she could think about. He worked in the kitchen and she worked the counter as they served their afternoons at KFC, often too busy with their duties and thus hardly speaking.

That's why, when he first spoke to her at the end of that first day, she was stumped for words.

"Hey, you."

She blinked, looking around to make sure he wasn't talking to anyone else.

"Yeah, you. Sneak me a drink from the fridge, will ya?"

So maybe it wasn't the best first conversation, but she wasn't about to pass up the chance to get on his good side. "Alright," she said, faking reluctance. _But only because you're cute._

She discreetly reached into the fridge behind the counter, making sure no one was around to see, and took out a bottle of Coke to hand to him. "Here."

"Thanks." He smiled, and… wait, did he just wink at her? He had turned around so quickly that she couldn't be sure. She brushed it off as her imagination, trying not to get her hopes up.

* * *

For the next week, it was the same, everyday. Whenever the place was cleared of customers for a moment or two, he would signal to her for a drink, and she would numbingly oblige, caught up in her fantasies of someday having a proper conversation with him. But of course, their routine was bound to get suspicious sooner or later.

"Kurosaki, Kuchiki. We seem to be disposing of more drinks than we are selling lately. Do you two know anything about this?"

Both teens shook their heads mutely at their supervisor, plastering a look of utter cluelessness onto their faces.

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"Okay, we're going to have to stop doing this."

"No, we're just going to need to be more careful about it. Like this." Ichigo reached into the bottom row of the fridge and took out the innermost bottle, manoeuvring it out carefully with his fingers. Once it was freed, he held it up to her, smirking in triumph. "See?"

So that's what they did—at least, until February the fourteenth rolled around and a new tradition was set.

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"Hey, did any guys give you chocolates this year?"

"Yep. Four."

"Wow. You're so lucky!"

"I know! Isn't it great?"

Rukia felt like throwing up in her mouth. If only these girls weren't customers and she weren't an employee, she had a strong feeling she would be running them through with a fork right about now.

She sighed, trying to calm herself, but she swore, if she had to listen to one more person even mention this dreaded, superficial…

"You got a valentine?"

She turned. "Ichigo… Uh, no," she answered, a little late.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

"Right."

But she found out the reason soon enough, as she was preparing to head home for the day.

* * *

"You leaving?" Ichigo asked, watching her gather her things.

"Yeah." She had her bag and was about to walk out, when she heard his voice call out to her once more.

"Could you get me another drink before you go?"

How could she refuse? "Sure."

She reached into the back of the fridge, but instead of encountering the solid plastic of a soda bottle, her fingers touched upon the smooth cardboard surface of a box. She pulled it out and opened the lid.

A box of chocolates. Correction: a very, very cold box of chocolates. Still, they were chocolates, nonetheless.

She turned around and was met with an arrogant smirk. "You…"

He leaned down so that their lips could almost touch. "Be my valentine?" he asked.

She nodded, finding it difficult to speak. "Mm, okay."

"Good."

And so, from then on, instead of stealing drinks from the store when no one was looking, he was stealing kisses, from her.

And she would be crazy to say a word against it.

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**A/N: Aw, the friend who inspired this story has just told me that the guy's being fired for never smiling. Hmm, sound like someone we know?**


End file.
